


Repose

by abberwocky



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Feelings, Female Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Injury Recovery, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27293503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abberwocky/pseuds/abberwocky
Summary: Alarys returns to Ishgard to learn that the Lord Commander has been attacked.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Repose

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short drabble on how Alarys would react to THAT scene in Heavensward. Enjoy!

Alarys flung open the oaken doors, paying no heed to the Temple Knights shouting after her. His unmistakable armour, now stained with blood, was strewn across a table along with his other garments. She marched towards the flock of chirurgeons surrounding the bed, who instinctively parted to reveal him.

In an off-white hempen gown, face pale and awash with pain, the Lord Commander lay limply on the bed. Never had he looked so small. Alarys gulped, willing the lump in her throat to subside, and turned to the head chirurgeon.

“I can heal him”-

“Mistress Elakah, I assure you we are administering the best treatment.” She felt her tail stand on end.

“Please, you have to let me heal him! My magic, it can”-

“Mistress Elakah, pray calm yourself! I must insist that you wait outside.”

“It’s alright.” Even in his weakened state, his voice commanded the room. Aymeric managed to muster a small smile before addressing the chirurgeons. “Please, leave us.”

They lingered a few seconds longer before reluctantly leaving. As soon as the door shut, Alarys flew to his side, staff in hand.

“What happened?” she asked, frantically trying to call a spell to mind. “No, wait. Don’t tell me. Save your strength.”

“Alarys”-

“Shh!”

His lips pressed together, suppressing a smirk. Alarys chose to ignore it and closed her eyes, the healing magic finally flowing through her aether. With every fibre of her being, she prayed to the elementals and willed his wound to close. She opened her eyes and saw his abdomen aglow with soft green light. Before long, a sigh of relief escaped the Lord Commander’s lips. Once the glow eventually dissipated, his cheeks had regained some colour and his sky blue eyes shone once more. He held her gaze, smiling gratefully.

“Alarys, thank you,” he murmured, beginning to prop himself up. The Miqo’te’s ears flattened in indignation as she barred his way with her staff.

“Wha- What do you think you’re doing!?” she tried to yell, though the sound that came out was more akin to a squeak. “You need to rest!”

“Your magic has healed me infinitely faster than bedrest ever could,” he smiled. “Besides, Lord Artoirel is bringing me a salve to numb the pain.”

“That's not-!” She huffed and tried to gain some composure. “Aymeric, my magic can only do so much, and numbing the pain won’t help the healing process.”

“Alarys, your concern is truly touching.” He placed a hand on her staff and began to lower it. “But I cannot stand idly by while Ishgard burns.”

“And _I_ can't stand by and let you go out there knowing you're hurt!” she shrieked, tears brimming. Her voice then fell quiet and she looked into her lap. “Aymeric... Without you, there will be no Ishgard. Please… rest.”

At this the Lord Commander paused, stunned. Alarys clutched her staff tighter - it was all she could do to keep the tears from falling. Eventually, he sighed and shifted.

“I am sorry, Alarys, but I cannot.” 

He sat up some more and Alarys' eyes shot towards him. So this was his play. The slight wince that coursed through him did not go unnoticed to her trained eye. She saw pain and ailment better than most, and she would be damned if she let him leave - Lord Commander or not. She took a deep breath.

“No, _I’m_ sorry.”

With a wave of her staff, she cast one of the very first spells she had learnt. A white haze clouded round Aymeric’s head, his eyelids fell heavy and he slumped back onto his pillows. As slumber swathed him, his handsome features became serene once more - the mere sight sent her heart aflutter. Gently, she brushed a tendril of his ebony locks away from his forehead, and for a mercy he did not stir. Nodding to herself, she tiptoed out of the room.

She couldn’t be sure how much the chirurgeons huddled outside had heard, but she cared little for their thoughts. Aymeric was asleep and healing and that was all that mattered. The head chirurgeon looked at her expectantly.

“Lord Artoirel will arrive soon with a salve for the pain,” she explained. “But he’s asleep now. Please, only give him the salve when he wakes.”

“Ah- yes, of course, milady,” he stuttered.

“And please assure him that the Scions and I are doing everything in our power to preserve the peace.”

“Yes, milady.”

Alarys turned on her heel and marched away. Now that she knew the Lord Commander was safe, The Warrior of Light would turn over every stone in Ishgard to find the people responsible - and Twelve forgive anyone who barred her way.


End file.
